Crystal Genesis
by Shaye Vespertine
Summary: Following in the wake of 'Looking Death in the Eye', there are some things discovered about Xena's heritage. Follow the stars and Xena herself as she awakens and goes back to the Castles in the Sky...ON HOLD!
1. Haunting Memories

"It is thus that we came to existence. Born to those with no special powers, money or who had done great deeds, we are the children of the Mortals. That is why we were regarded as harmless by the deities of the Castle in the Sky, Mt. Olympus; they had magical power to hide behind and knowledge to scorn others with. And that is in itself their biggest failure and greatest danger: they thought themselves invincible, only to be destroyed by the mere prophecy of a mortal child, destined according to the Three Great Fates, to be their downfall."  
  
And yet the child was but a Harbinger, a mere shell holding some valuable power, or at least enough to be feared by all and to bring the Gods in turmoil. But she was nothing compared to her mother, the Lady of Battle herself. Thousands knew of her name and her deeds, both good and bad, and still they treated her with more respect than they offered homage to their patron gods.  
  
She had the power to kill and destroy, build and re-construct the lives of millions of innocents and not-so-innocents but she chose not to in the end. The Gods think they know her, but she has yet to reveal her true self.  
  
Drip, the Waters of Time flow undisturbed in the Land of the Keins, the great Watchers. She does not know it yet, but she has their blood boiling in her delicate mortal veins. The Threads of Fate spin themselves to form the Greater Picture, undisturbed and unconcerned of the consequences of their bonding. All was going well and according to plan. The Son came to their aide, the King fell to his doom, and I watch as the child comes out of her body. The Amazon is by her side, and Nuala looks in wonder and joy at the bundle of flesh and the remnants of birth still covering the tiny, precious form.  
  
She will be great, that one. But not like her mother. Oh no, not like her mother at all; there wouldn't be one like her mother for the next three thousand years to come, in the very least.  
  
Nuala looks up from the Harbinger that is her daughter and – Creator bless my soul – straight into my eyes. Her face does not change, nor does she give out any sign that she has seen me. But she has; Creator's hands, she knows I reside here on top of this tree, watching the little happy group, feeling like a completely and total fool for it. The instant I departed did not go unnoticed.  
  
Already she's rocking the baby back and forth, humming a lullaby, caressing the tiny features and hands and feet, crooning as the baby turned towards her mother's touch instinctively. Already the gods have targeted her. Already she has assumed the fierce, protective stance that comes with being a mother, and looks around the area carefully, to make sure there is no danger laying ahead to harm the precious life she has given. Already I can see the fate that awaits her, my beloved Nuala, slain by the gods with her own hands...and he grieves for her.  
  
She hears his cries, but is past recognition and I watch as the eternal sleep claims the last of the Children of Th'Hannui. Snip, the thread of Fate has been cut, the most vital part to the existence of these poor tortured souls. The child was believed to have gone with them, but I know better; she will grow up and become a heartless woman, ruthless in her rage, intoxicating in her glory. But not like her mother. The mortal has no importance to our race, but she is part of a delicate chain that can become the dangling train of the Key to unlock Nuala the Storm Bringer.  
  
She is encased in ice now, my beloved Nuala and there is not a thing I can do or wish more than to help free her. But she must do this by herself. In her own time and in her own way; she has always been like that, dearest, beloved Nuala. She looks the same, her soul and spirit have endured, but her powers are dormant and so is a part of her that is too precious and too powerful to be destroyed.  
  
After all, it took Erythros seven centuries to awaken and come back home, step through the Gates and into Alangar, our prosperous city. He yearns for Nuala's presence; I know he does. And how can he not? They are twins after all, bound by blood and a bond so deep and powerful it is too complicated to be understood by simpler beings. But he does not take a step and he does not interfere. Erythros is too intelligent to do such a thing, and knows better.  
  
He and Nuala were the best of friends; one would always come first for the other, both so stunning and stubborn and yet so different and deadly in their own ways it was frightening and a beautiful thing all the same to watch them grow from their infant years to their Initiation Day; and look after their trail of glory and blinding light as they became older and more responsible, less mischievous, more powerful.  
  
Creator's hands, they were so special a pair it was the cruellest thing to part them so; and for them to haven't had the time to reconciliate themselves before Celeste took them in her cold, forceful hands.  
  
'Twas meant to be, many said. Such a terrible waste and to have had a horrible fight as they did. Dreadful, truly dreadful and such a pity they died without each other's forgiveness; they died alone. What would they know?  
  
I brought them up; I watched them take their first steps, speak their first word, spark their first, most precious trace of magic. Such a beautiful thing it was, but then of course, it wouldn't be otherwise. Erythros had moved Elloi's sword from the scabbard resting at her hip, and brought it crashing down right next to him. I could feel my immortal heart beat with conspicuous joy then; my son had shown his first signs of magic at the age of three cycles of the seasons. Nuala was more sedate and steady-paced.  
  
Many tried to force it out of her numerous times; they joked about how I would have to leave her on the doorstep of a mortal house since she demonstrated of having no special powers or skills. Except for mischief and mayhem, and an adorable pair of doe-eyed, crystalline sapphires. By the Creator's hand, I would have kept her even if she had not possessed the 'required trademarks' that were like genes to our kind. I wasn't particularly concerned for the fact that at the age of four cycles of the seasons she had yet to show any ability, and the boundary for children was almost too close for some people's liking, but I paid no heed to their sayings. I had faith in my Nuala, and I presaged she would grow to be so powerful, that one day the Stars would dim and she would give off light and glow like a Sun.  
  
And I was right; if Erythros was wonderful to have removed a sword so heavy from a scabbard, Nuala was a child prodigy. Little Edani had played with the mortal children one time too many, had crossed her father's portal one dangerous time too many; She got stuck between Plains, and it wasn't until Kyos came home complaining that the portal had given out again that she was found. Cancera had found out that Edani was nowhere to be found, and the little star dangling at the end of the chain stuck to the 'control pad' was glowing, meaning that someone was in the portal, or just about to come out. After two minutes it was discerned that Edani was stuck between the Plains and the next few hours became the Earthly Tartarus. She was rescued by her father, and I had never seen Kyos looking so distraught and worried.  
  
Cancera cried out with what I knew was motherly horror at seeing her child in pain and hurt. Edani had many swirls of black essence stuck to her small form, tentacle- like tendrils swaying this way and that. Her face was blue and her Life Stone was dull and smoke grey coloured; she was stuck in a reality between consciousness and the greatly feared Mordoch, the dark void that existed yet could not be entered or exited unless you found the exit or entrance. In better words, Edani was in a coma.  
  
It was my Nuala that got her out of it. Kyos and Cancera had called every Healer and Shamaness they could think of; none had found it in their hearts to go into the Mordoch unprepared and without a single source of Light from the Evenstar. We had all given up hope; Kyos could not enter the Mordoch without his sword Meceni, they would both be stuck out there, and Cancera was too weak to save her daughter alone, never mind both of them. I had never been inside personally, but I had heard enough to know that it was a horrid place to be in, and being one of the closest friends of the family, I felt sadness and pity for them.  
  
Nuala got up, off my lap, and went over to Edani's body, her small feet making a soft padding on the floor. Before I knew what was going on, she grabbed the girl's hand with her left, and with her right she touched the girl's forehead. At first I thought she was just checking her temperature, when suddenly her Life Stone glowed a brilliant white, to be replaced by dull grey streaks. I can still taste the bile that rose up in my throat, the stabbing sharp vine clutching at my soul, my mind screaming at me to break their contact in that instant.  
  
Nuala, my sweet, trusting Nuala had just entered the Mordoch without so much as a drop of the Light of the Evenstar, and what was worst was that she had no stitch of protection or indeed shown any signs that she could protect herself magically. Her magic had yet to make an appearance.  
  
My world rocked on its axis, the room spun and I found my breath coming in short, pathetic, mortal-like gasps, my mind going blank with the shock that my sweet blue-eyed baby had gone in there by herself and so unprotected and so young. It felt like hours, sitting there watching the two showing no signs of gracing us humble beings with their mystical presence; Edani wasn't blue anymore, but her Life Stone now showed streaks of red and orange, a definite sign of danger, and Nuala's eyes became blank and pupil-less; black and void.  
  
We had no consciousness of the time that flowed past, but the moon was already shining in her white-silver glory, and was now reaching the low part of the sky, signalling that the reign of the Lady Nix would be over in but a few hours, to be taken over by the first slivers of daylight. Suddenly a set of twin flares of white lights came from the girls' Life Stones, and we all stared incredulously at the pair. They were still for a few minutes, Edani's cheeks coloured a healthy pink, and Nuala's black orbs shrank, a circle of the purest blue I had ever seen and knew so well came into view, surrounded again by white. The girls both blinked at the same time, and for an infinity-like second we could not believe our eyes. Surely our immortal eyes were tricking us, so tired and concerned were our minds that they must have been in a pitiful state indeed; surely our little girls were still trapped in the Mordoch, to be lost forever and never to be seen again.  
  
I remember closing my eyes at the sore sight, only to snap them open a moment later at the sound of "Mummy..." The tears streaking down my face could not be stopped; there could not be a word to describe the immense relief and joy and wonder and anger and the Creator knew what else, I was feeling at that moment.  
  
Nuala had shown her first sign of magic, she has just stepped into the feared Mordoch, and stepped out of it hours later with Edani safe and sound. Such a thing at the mere age of six cycles of the seasons was unheard of; we became famous throughout the city and many came to examine Nuala and ask for her help to heal a loved one, and I was so proud and frightened at the same time that the next days were more of a hazy passage in a dark tunnel.  
  
A sob escapes my throat now, scalding tears making their treacherous way down my face, just as they did long ago when I aw the bodies of my two children crushed by Darkness and crumble together, united and yet so apart from each other. Looking around myself, I am surprised to notice I have made my way towards the ice coffin sitting on the left side of the cave, careful to avoid the sword and chakram, the 'tombstone' left by the War God.  
  
Watching it, I cannot help but think how sad it is that such a beautiful woman has had to leave her life for the up-tenth time. And how wonderful it was to have known her as a daughter, for others to be graced by her presence.  
  
A shining star among torches lit of fire.  
  
And thus Nuala rests, beautiful even in death, enclosed protectively in her carved ice coffin, wearing that leather battle-dress of hers. I find so overwhelming all of a sudden that I almost have to lean and draw support from the coffin. Not being able to gaze at those sapphires lit by an inner fire no one could ever hope to match was almost too much for me.  
  
And what is a mother to do when she gazes down onto the face of her dead, buried (so to speak) daughter? I once heard an old mortal woman say to a crowd of un-interested farmers and inn-keepers and such that a parent should never have to bury their children.  
  
I have had that that misfortune thrice now. It is at times like these that I wish my husband Leoni was with me; I had to bury him too, and the children were so saddened by the sudden loss. I make no silly pretences; I know I have given them all they have ever desired and more, but the lacking presence of a man of the family was palpable at times nonetheless.  
  
Erythros had been watching her since she was a child, playing out in the fields outside the village Amphipolis with her brother Lyceus. Such burning jealousy and hatred he had felt then, I almost had to restrain him from hurting the boy. I understood very well why it was that he felt that way. I almost hurt the woman Cyrene too many times to be comfortable with.  
  
As for that Amazon woman...the burning feeling I felt rising in me was not a pleasant one.  
  
Who were these mere mortals to take our beloved Nuala away from us? I had knowledge of her dreams at night, when she dreamt of Alangar and her real home. I knew her soul yearned to break free from the prison it had been trapped in, I knew she craved to know what the Castles in the Sky were all about.  
  
Erythros had to be magically constrained when Nuala died by the hands of Caesar and his Romans; he did not talk to anyone for a whole seven days and eight nights. His tantrums were rare, but devastating and always palpable in their wake and power. Who were you to keep me from my sister? Who were you to stop me from going by her side when she needed me the most, when she had the chance to come home? He'd shouted when he finally came out of his shell.  
  
I was so happy and relieved to have him back in my arms, my beloved son, that I did not immediately realize the extensive damage it caused seeing his sister living a mortal life, unaware of her true heritage or her real family. I find myself thinking now that it is amazing that the heart makes no noise when it cracks. He almost travelled into the Mordoch at times, he missed her so much.  
  
And I, being their mother, did not realize until too late what it did to my Erythros to see our Nuala safe, but so far away. Centuries unravelled themselves before my eyes, past occurrences and memories all poured into each other until it all became one great, befuddled tangle. Time went back to centuries before, he was a broken child again, and it broke both our hearts to feel her Life slipping away yet again.  
  
I cannot remember the exact number of times I had cursed Celeste and her damn 'Death at your doorstep' calling of souls. My mother once told me that time heals all wounds.  
  
But I think she was wrong; now, as I stand before the lifeless body that was my daughter, I think to myself that there can only be so many times the heart mends itself from cracks.  
  
And here it the first chapter of Crystal Genesis; the title is only temporary and might change later on. As usual, I am open t anything from insults to praise, all you have to do is review, but don't over do it if you did not like the story.-( NO DIRTY WORDS NEEDED TO EXPRESS PERSONAL OPINIONS. Also, I am looking for a beta-reader, anyone interested, review this chapter and let me know through there.  
  
Thank you all, Lady Zee 


	2. Spinning Emotions

Dsiclaimer: I am making no profit out of this,and the characters belong to Universal Pictures, Studios USA and Renaissance. The plot and all the OC are mine.

Chapter two: Spinning Emotions

"Come on, come down with me! Erythros!"

He whipped round, his eyes searching frantically for the little girl calling out to him, just as she had done so many years ago when they –

There was no one in the glen but himself.

His eyes searched the tree branches in desperate hope of glimpsing the small body of Nuala hiding mischeviously from his sight, but his heart knew that she would not be there.

It hurt so much that for a moment he thought he'd scratched his chest when he fell, but he could not feel any blood seeping through his clothes or sliding against his chilled skin.

No sleepâ€he would get no sleep until Nuala came stepping through the threshold and home where she really belonged: at Neithrill Palace.

Erythros found himself walking through the forest, ignoring the birds' call to each other, and the squirrels that ran to hide from his presence, nor did he pay attention to the misty patches on the ground created by the sunlight that blinded him at times, until he came to a small clearing where a waterfall sat in a deep natural pool at its feet.

One would assume that this was no special place, that it held no particular importance in his memories, but then one had not been Nuala's twin brother.

Those words alone brought a deep twinge in his heart, and Erythros felt his eyes burn with the tears he refused to shed, and crouching to the ground, he reached out a hand to dip it in the cool blue waters.

His intrusion caused small ripples to form on the surface, and he found himself staring at the distorted image of his face.

Touching those waters was not something he should have done, and he realised too late, what was about to happen, watching, unable to prevent it, with a mix of fascination and horror at the event unfolding itself before his eyes.

He fell in the pool, and his memories came rushing back to the surface of his mind, where they were not wanted and hurt the most.

"Catch me if you can, Erythros! Let's see if you can beat me to the pool!"

A small girl with black hair and striking blue eyes ran in the forest, darting from this direction to that to avoid bumping into the trees that stood in her path, a similar boy hot on her trail, both laughing and shrieking in mirth at their game.

"Of course I'll beat you to the pool, I'm stronger than you are!"

"Oh no you can't! I'll run so fast you will eat my dust!"

They kept enticing each other on, running like crazed beasts and calling out from time to time, both intent on winning and proving the other they were the best.

As fate would have it, Nuala reached the pool first, of course, and she let out a whoop of triumph before jumping up and down, chanting at the top of her lungs, "I did it, I did it, oh yes, yes, YES! No cake for you tonight, WHOO, cake for you tonight – no, no, no cake for you tonight, you are the loser!"

Erythros burst from the trees a couple of seconds later, and huffed at his twin sister's sight, a reluctant grin spreading immediately on his young face, and came over to Nuala's side and tweaked at her ribs, declaring that he only lost because he thought it would be the gentlemanly thing to do.

Nuala in turn kicked at him, massaging her ribs with a hand, her face pouting and contorting on a mock pained look, when she said that she would do the lady-like thing and not tell any of their friends of the race, and who won it.

They glare at each other for a couple of seconds, before bursting out in laughter, their yells of amusement echoing slightly in the clearing before being dispersed by the winds.

They sat down and Nuala laid out a small cloth on the grass, then proceeded to take out of the bag she took from home some cheese, bread, some fruit, a flask of plum juice and some cold meat from the previous night.

They ate their lunch with gusto and shared their dessert with enthusiasm; the children both revelling in each other's company, glad to be alone after a whole seven days and eight nights of being apart.

Nuala had gone to Essami's house for a while to practice their spells before the test at their academy, which meant that Erythros would have gone to his best friend's house to do the same.

After they finished their lunch and put everything back into the bag, Erythros suggested they climb trees, since they had not been doing that for a while, and said that she would probably fall on her rear since she was out of shape.

Nuala, never one to back down from a challenge, especially from her twin, said with a gleeful look on her face, "I'm not the one who is out of shape, you are! You even lost the race to the pool! And that means that I get your share of cake tonight."

Erythros glared at her, the proceeded to beg her to let him off this time as they would be having chocolate and cream balls dipped in apple juice, and sprinkled with bits of bananas and oranges.

"No, you knew that if I won I'd never let you off, and this will serve you right for calling me weak and being so stupid as to think you would definitely beat me."

Nuala was not a child you could play with, assume she was weak because of her sex, and get away with it.

Her brother knew this, however seemed to have forgotten it in the time he spent with his friend.

They chose a particularly tall, fun-looking tree, one with many thick branches, that looked directly over the pool; it was in the children's nature to go for the things that seemed the most difficult to achieve, and trouble would always follow them around like bees to honey because of this.

When they reached a long branch that they retained was high enough, they looked around until Nuala walked to the end of the branch, looking down and gave out a soft sound of excitement.

Erythros turned to her, and with a frown on his face, he noted that she was dangerously close to the edge. Slightly concerned and curious to join her and take a look at their surroundings, he made his way towards her, careful not to startle her, and crouched down to look at whatever she was staring at.

The pool from their height looked extremely beautiful and strangely forbidding all of a sudden, and a shiver ran down Erythros' spine, making him grip the branch above him harder.

Nuala turned to him, sensing his distress, and after being reassured he was fine, she suggested, excitement lacing her voice, and a daring look crossing her eyes that they see who was the one who could get closer to the edge and magically pull up some water.

At her words Erythros inhaled sharply and a wary frown of apprehension crossed his features, his body suddenly shivering.

"Ummmâ€mum said it wasn't safe to play around here. I think we should get down and go to the caves." He hoped that mentioning the caves would dissuade her from this idea that had taken up, but knew that it was futile.

"Oh, come on Erythros, don't be such a spoil sport; since when have you heeded mum's words and started playing the big brother?"

"Well I _was_ born two hours before you came out, so naturally I am your big brother and it's my duty to protect you from danger."

"Come now, Erythros don't be ridiculous: I can take care of myself, I don't need you to shadow my every step; we'll do it just this once, I promise. It can't hurt to try, can it?"

"It will if we're not careful; we're already in a bad position as it is, you want to make it worse? Please Nua, let's just climb down and go to the caves."

Urgency gripped at Erythros now, and deep need to get her away from the offending branch and its tree filled him until he thought a rib or two must have cracked from the pressure.

These sudden panic attacks he had been experiencing where something to which Erythros was not used to, nor was he accustomed to checking on his baby sister every hour or so; he felt like the anxious boy who took lessons with Scribe Couvan and who always stuttered when asked a question, lest he got it wrong, and was indeed very clumsy. He'd seen him last in the Healer's Wing just as he was going to report a missing book from one of the Weapons And Magic Defence shelf.

He'd been having curiously vivid dreams as of late.

Dreams that had nothing to do with winning the Student of the Cycle Award, or riding his beloved Kehin on Neithrill grounds, or even kissing that girl studying with Scribe Taleah...nothing so juvenile and carefree.

He dreamt almost every night that there was this dreadful accident and that he was walking alone in the halls, servants and Healers he knew from afar rushing about the place, carrying strange tools, their wands, their birth-stones, and generally shouting orders back and forth.

From what he could hear of their agitated going-on's, a terrible accident had happened and it involved Nuala and himself.

"Would you just hurry up with those herbs, we haven't got all day you know!"

Aneys, the twins' carer was shouting frantically in the direction of the Herb garden, where three young women, looking as anxious and agitated as Aneys looked and Erythros was feeling bustled in, their arms loaded with many herbs he recognized, and alarmed at what they could possibly be used for, Erythros suddenly felt a hot feeling rushing up in his gut, threatening to come out.

Plants for internal injuries, a couple used to heal burns, some to relax the body and render it practically heavy with sleep, and last but not least, herbs used in potions to heal from serious magical attacks were among some of the ones he recognized.

He did not have a good feeling about this, but was determined to find out, even if the thought of entering the chamber he and Nuala shared when both ill filled him with dread over what he could find.

"...looking so awful, poor mistress Nuala, never seen her so battered or so still in my time here – "

"Dreadful, just dreadful, and master Erythros was looking no better – "

"How could this have happened? Heliopaths attacking children in broad daylight, just outside a palace full to the brim with Watchers and Seekers – "

"I heard these Heliopaths were being controlled by a pair of strong Necromancers in league with the Sour-Ien's, you know those Shadowmancers that were caught meddling with a prophecy a while back – "

"_I_ heard they attempted to steal the Glaive of Silence and the book of the – "

"Don't be ridiculous, that Glaive is only a legend..."

Their conversations went on and on as they passed each other, rushing from this place to that to attend to the Healers' orders, and Erythros who was usually a sharp-minded boy even for his age, could not comprehend fully what they were saying, and what their words meant.

Where was mother? He wondered.

And Nuala? How was she? Attacked by Heliopaths?

He had heard of these creatures before, briefly, and the thought of Nuala coming across them horrified him so much, he sank down onto the cold marble of the hall floor, sweat beading his forehead, chest laboured to suck in strangled breaths snatched roughly from the air.

He stood up on shaky legs and made his way towards the chamber, eyes widening with the terrible sight he knew would greet him, hands wringing together so painfully he almost snapped his wrists, shivers running up and down his spine.

And what was it they said about him?

If he had been attacked too, how come there was not a single scratch on his body, and he felt magically fine?

And why was no one paying attention to him, almost as if –

Erythros stopped short in his tracks, an 'Oh' of confusion forming on his lips as he pondered on this puzzle.

Almost as if they did not see him.

The thought itself was very disturbing.

Suddenly snapping back to reality, the boy shook his head to clear it of these ominous thoughts, clenched his hands to his side, and strode purposefully towards the chamber.

He opened the door without knocking, and the sight that greeted him was every bit as unwelcome as he dreaded it would be.

His mother was sitting in a chair next to a window overlooking the huge fountain on the grounds towards the iron gates, but she wasn't staring outside or reading a scroll like she usually did.

She was staring at one of the beds on the opposite side of the large room, face pale, eyes frightened and wide with deep concern, lips mouthing something Erythros could not understand.

He looked towards that direction and a strangled moan fell involuntarily from his lips.

On one bed he saw himself laying down, eyes open, mouth working as if attempting to speak, although no sound came out.

He was startled into discovering that his feet had carried him closer without his realizing it.

He was pale, his skin looked clammy, and his eyes were staring at something he couldn't see, glazed, unfocused, wide.

This revelation came as a sudden blow to him: he was standing over a bed with himself laying on it, looking incredibly ill, and with a shock, felt that he was torn, divided in two.

On one side was he on the bed, feeling as though living a nightmare, eyes frantically looking at a spot in the room where there seemed to be something or someone that bothered him; on the other was himself standing by the bed, looking down at himself as if watching from afar, like in a Memory Crystal.

Erythros also found that he was sharing both himself's emotions, and this left him feeling strangely empty and too overwhelmed at the same time.

He turned round to where his mother was staring so helplessly, and when he looked past the Healers' bodies, he recoiled in horror and a howl of pain left his mouth.

Nuala, sweet, beloved, cherished Nuala was laying on the bed, blood covering almost every inch of her, face deathly pale, limbs still like she was dead.

Not Nuala.

Please, not Nuala.

Erythros snapped back to the present, a scowl of anger tinged with an overwhelming amount of grief and pain deepening his features into the feared Wind elemental everyone in Angal knew so much about.

He strode out of the glen and savagely snapped and broke every plant that stood in his destructive path, turning a cold heart upon the pain the forests were projecting at his ruthlessness, only to collapse when he got to his stallion, his faithful Kehin II.

Tears of shame, rage, pain, grief, vengefulness, hate and so many other emotions ran down his face, staining his robes, wetting the soil beneath him, and he did nothing to stop them or dry them off.

He had just discovered that Nuala had died at the hands of the Greek Gods, having fought to protect her child from their rage, together with that blonde mortal he despised so much; he had constrain himself when she pulled her sword to commit the unthinkable, when Ares God of War had stopped her.

His relief did not last long however, because he felt it before he saw it happen: Nuala took out a small phial filled with a clear liquid, brought it to her lips and drank greedily.

Her eyes clouded almost immediately, she said some words he could not hear, then sagged to the sand beneath her feet, as Ares caught her in his arms, a shocked look of finality filling his brown eyes.

She had done it.

She had taken her life again.

Erythros realized he was trying to scramble to her, but someone held him in a binding, iron-like grip, and whispered nonsense in his ears.

Mother, he thought with a sense of desperation.

Must get to her, protect, must save her, protect, must call her back to life, mustmustmustmust PROTECT

His mind and heart were causing a cacophony in trying to make themselves heard.

Nuala Nuala, Nuala, Nuala, lovelovelove sweet Nualadon'tdon'tdon'tforgiveforgivesorrysosorry

She's gone Erythros, there is nothing we can do.

NO! Let me go, I must save her, mother leave me!

It is too late Erythros, come away, come away with me now –

LEAVE ME BE! Let me get to her!

Damn you let me GO!

He saw Ares return, walk towards Nuala, pick her up in his arms gently, tenderly, almost like she was a delicate artefact in his hands, then disappear again into the aether.

NUALA!


	3. When the Skies turn Grey

A/N

Right then, here is chapter three, after a really long wait, sorry about that, plot just seemed to get stuck in a limbo after 2, anyway for those who wish to know what is going on, you'll have to read to find out, but be warned: this is a SHIPPER fic, which means Ares and Xena share a romantic relationship/affair, owing to the fact that I am an avid Shipper reader myself, so if you are a Subtext reader or just plain don't like Ares, then I strongly suggest you find yourself something else to read.

Also, not to offend anyone, but I really HATE subtext fictions – I understand about the whole best friends/really close relationship, but physical love between Xena and that blonde obnoxious and self-righteous **beep** is completely appalling, in my opinion.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but original characters and the main plot of this story; all the rest goes to Universal Studios and Renaissance Pictures, and I underline that no profit is being made, so don't sue please.

* * *

Chapter three: **When the Skies Turn Grey**

"Oh, Ares why do you keep me waiting like this every time?"

The Bitch of Rome pouted in what she thought was a sexy moue, but one that made the hairs on the War God's neck stand up, his hackles raised.

"You _know_ how impatient I always get when our meeting becomes imminent…especially since you've started to give me a…more enjoyable service."

Ares' face was close to twisting into a menacing snarl, but he refrained himself before everything went down the drain.

He smiled charmingly instead and stepped closer to Livia, whom was now staring at him expectantly, with obvious desire.

She wouldn't get what she wanted this time, however.

After all, Ares was inclined to bed a woman such as the Bitch of Rome only seldom in a moon cycle, and frankly, he'd had enough of her silly antics.

In the meantime Livia had wrapped herself sinuously around the deity and played with the pendant hanging around his neck, trying to suppress a shiver when those brown eyes smouldered into hers.

She wanted him.

She wanted him to give her a pendant just like his and make her his Chosen.

Of course, she'd heard tales of his involvement with the legendary Warrior Princess, but that was all in the past. That whore might have been his past, but she, Livia the Great Bitch of Rome, would be his future.

Soon, she cackled.

Soon, the entire world would be at their feet, just waiting at Livia's beck and call.

And Ares would help her get there, whether he knew it or not.

"Listen Livia I don't have time for this. Back off now." Ares un-wound her arms from his neck and stepped back, giving them plenty of room to look each other in the eye, and avoid any contact on her part.

Livia seemed shocked and frustrated for a few seconds but she regained her cool and slipped a mask of fake cheer and calm on her features.

"Come now, first you tell me I will be something great, we share ideas and a bed, and now you're sending me away? Who on Tartarus do you think you are to play around with me like I'm some stupid Greek thug?"

Ares sneered in her face and fingered the hilt of his sword, resting at his left flank, a move that made him look predatory, dangerous and confident in his arrogance.

Something Livia did not fail to notice, despite the mounting anger rising inside her.

"Maybe I might have said once that you _could_ have been great – _could_, not _will_.

I recall that we certainly shared ideas of conquest and greatness, but I also recall that we in fact did _not_ share a bed, nor did I ever force you to do anything. You slipped in the hole on your own there, my dear."

Another sneer, but then his features hardened and his eyes stared at the thwarted woman coldly and scornfully continued:"As to who do I think I am, well – I think you might find I have a _tad_ bit more power there: I'm not just a man who can do some stupid magic tricks with some good fighting moves – I AM WAR. It calls to me and I obey it."

"There is no escaping it, no denying it, and certainly no point in crying about it. War _is _what I am, it's _me_ and I can do this and more to you and your pathetic race of so called emperors if I so much as wished."

"So you watch your step with me girl: remember that the smaller fish always gets eaten by the bigger. I'm afraid you are the small fish, whereas _I_ am a predator."

His cruel smile froze the warrior to the core, and all of a sudden she remembered just what it was to fear someone you could not fight with weapons and a few somersaults. He disappeared into the ether, his cold laughter ringing through the arena and the blue sparks hadn't quite faded, when he suddenly reappeared again, right in front of her.

Livia's war cry rang out and she unsheathed her sword and charged, when suddenly she bumped painfully into something solid. Something that caused her to land thirty feet away and twitch with the electrical shock she had received upon touching the barrier.

Ares looked on with scorn and indifference but stepped to Livia until he was right in her face, and whispered, "As for Greek thugs, I think you'll find they are much smarter than a Roman little brat such as yourself. Did you really think yourself so mighty I would make you my Chosen?" then laughed at the horrified look on the woman's face.

"Oh yes Livia, I can read your mind. I can see your every thought running through that pathetic grey mush of yours, feel your every fear, I can – _smell_ the stink you mortals are forever destined to carry with you – the unmistakeable stench of close decay, mortality, and lack of power.

On the subject of my Chosen – don't worry about it, for you see, I don't think you'll be a candidate for the job, if you know what I mean. I'm going to catch you around the Acropolis if I ever feel bored."

With a last sneer and cold glare, Ares God of War disappeared off Roman territory completely, leaving a scorned, yelling woman behind.

* * *

The darkened corridors did not bother him, for he was born in darkness, he was in his element with the lack of light. 

He made his way towards the Atrium, unperturbed of the witches and warriors bustling past and around him, wrapped up in their own business, completely indifferent to the struggles and angry yells of a couple of miscreants held firmly still by the Forces of the Order.

He did not care for people, he never had.

How could he allow himself so much as to feel anything for them with all the work he had to do?

It would simply be a waste of valuable time.

And he hated it when his time was wasted.

He shifted the weapon on his side to a more comfortable position and the movement of his shoulders caused the black mantel to fall back slightly.

It was swept back with no need of hands and all the while he walked, calmly and purposefully towards his goal.

On the way to the chamber however, his thoughts wondered morbidly on the consequences of what he was about to do, and what the percussions would be on the side of Light.

He wondered about it, but did not care for it, either way.

Someone with a 'job' like his would never allow himself or herself to feel, it would complicate things and as always waste valuable time.

The only thing he cared for was his own purposes and to make sure his time was not wasted on futile attempts to disrupt the Order's affairs and day-to-day life.

A Shadowmancer like himself could attempt to overthrow the Order completely, with a group of others such as himself.

But what was the point?

What good would it do to him, other than having got rid of a fastidious insect buzzing round his head?

To overthrow the Order would be a foolish attempt anyway, these days, for they resolved more problems than they caused, which he supposed was good at times, but the Order was not merciful to attempts to destroy it.

And besides, if he played his cards right, he could manipulate the Order into playing right into his hands.

He brought his mind forcefully on the task at hand.

He had work to do.

Chaos to cause.

Lives to end.

And a certain Storm Harbinger to keep sealed in her little ice coffin.

After he stole her powers of course.

One wouldn't want to spoil her forever and make this whole mission futile.

Not that one cared of course. Not for her welfare. One was indifferent.

But one did observe and plot.

* * *

Ares re-appeared in one of his less visited temples, far out on rocky plains, where a small village dwelt right at the foot of an imposing, white mountain. 

He rarely visited this temple nowadays, which meant the priests working here would not bother him with trivialities and petty peasants' disputes.

He would remain here, in solitude.

Solitude.

Loneliness.

That was what he knew most now; the only constant in his life, the only thing he could count on now that things had turned out so bad.

The gods that were killed during the Twilight somehow found a way to escape one of the most dangerous and deepest levels of Tartarus and were back in their respective places, reigning with terror, boredom, forcefulness.

They seemed to be more focused than they were before … _that_ happened.

Back with a vengeance, so to speak.

A bitter, mocking smile twisted his lips, and a he automatically reached for the goblet of wine that had just appeared next to his throne, and took a gulp, heaving a great sigh.

Ares stared at his surroundings distastefully and with boredom.

Suddenly he didn't know that coming here was such a good idea.

A jumbled voice spoke in his head, but he paid it no heed, sipping his wine and adopting a much more comfortable position on the skeleton-like throne he reclined on.

After all he had no time to spare for petty farmers right now.

All they ever asked was for protection from raiders and a plentiful crop, something he found both annoyed him and amused him.

Amusement.

What did that word mean these days?

_Ares, you ninny._

_Look at you moping about in a third-level pile of fading stone, in the vicinity of a couple of run-down houses and farm-land._

_What in Tartarus happened to the Prince of Olympus!_

He recognised that voice, of course.

It was his personal perpetrator and advisor, both curse and blessing: his conscience taking the shape of a haunting child's voice, inside his head.

He hated hearing that child's voice, having a conscience was not a good thing for a War God, and it spoke to him more often after her dea-

No.

Not thinking about that.

You are NOT thinking about that day ever again, understood.

_The grey, over-cast weather was suddenly livened by a resounding boom and a fiery burst of red-orange flames, before black smoke piled into a solemn, thick, forbidding column towards the heavens._

_The sea was much more agitated all of a sudden and the sky darkened to a dark grey roiling mass._

_A moment later another resounding boom spilled forth, much louder and a blinding zigzag split the sky in two, before it struck the earth beneath and created a small crater off in the distance._

_On a small beach, far away from the thunder, a wooden wagon lying awkwardly on its side, dark flames licking hungrily at it, feeding their splendour._

_The woman stood twenty feet away from it, tears staining her crumpled face, blue eyes stormy with sorrow, anger and something he could not identify._

_Her last words haunted him day and night, forever etching her face in his mind, clarity struck him to the bone of just what was about to happen, and his eyes widened in horror before they struck-_

NO!

You stop that! Stop it right now!

DO NOT THINK ABOUT THAT DAY, DON'T REMIND YOURSELF OF HER!

The memories would not leave him, and he cursed mortals and every kind of moving thing with them, hands bunched into fists resting on the now broken throne, as the goblet crumpled in his hand and the temple shook to the very core.

The explosion.

The flames.

The pain eating his soul in slow corrosion.

The games, the endless games they played.

No more.

Her face.

Calamity.

Her eyes.

Knives in his black heart.

That flash of lightening behind her.

The storm.

Foreboding.

Danger.

Pain, pain, pain.

The blow from the sky that finally crushed her.

She was gone; now watch her come undone.

An unearthly scream spilling forth from numbed lips.

Save her!

Shield her! XE –

_BLOODY ENOUGH!_

With a loud growl of rage, Ares bolted from the throne to his feet and disappeared yet again into the ether.

He had wars to arrange and destruction to lead.

Tartarus had stayed too empty of its daily war-slaughtered souls.

* * *

Right then, that's Ch. 3 for you, so no more hassling. 

I have no idea when the next update will be, as the plot seems to have become dim as of late, and a beta would not go amiss, so if you are interested, contact me at and as a subject insert ' Beta for Lady ZEE'.

Now then, as I explained before this is a shipper fiction - I don't swing that way you see.

As for Gabrielle, I grant she will be present in this story but do not expect her to take on much of an appearance once Xena returns to ... her past. Wink wink, can't say too much!

I will be glad to answer any questions regarding Crystal Genesis and my beta any time with you. Please, please, PLEASE review, that's what really keeps me going you know.

Plenty of those coming my way hopefully.

Until next time,

Lady Zee


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